Birds of a feather
Chapter 1: Mixed Drinks
She brushes her blond her back and nurses her fifth drink, another gin and coke.
She doesn't even like gin, but when you storm out at 2AM, there aren't many fancy places open that serve wine. Thankfully, this hole in the wall dive bar was still open and no one was around.
She sighs. After all this - she flashes back to her wheelchair - someone smarter would have stocked their office with bottles of alcohol. But no, she had to be a CEO who leads by example and not merely with words. Fat good that's done for her now.
"Felicity?"
"Huh?" She turns to peer at the blurry figure in the doorway.
"Woah!" The room starts spinning. She should have stopped at drink two, but the bitter taste of her last argument wouldn't leave her. But four drinks shouldn't have left her feeling this drunk, what was going on?
The figure rushes forward, firm arms wrapping around her and holding her steady.
"Oliver?" She tries to make out the face but her eyes are not cooperating. As she finally surrenders to her dropping eyelids, she mumbles her last thought out loud.
"Mmm, you smell nice."
"I'll pay her tab and get her home safely."
The bartender looks at the speaker. He's about to close up, but can he let this stranger take the fainted girl?
"Look, I'll get her home safe. I'm not sure who you are-"
"Michael, I know all about how you wait for women to drink themselves silly with your-," the mysterious stranger pauses to lean Felicity down against the far wall.
With air quotes, "-mixed drinks."
"I have no idea what you're talking about!" The bartender shouts, hoping to cover his own nervousness, "You need to leave, now!"
"I know what you do to them and I promise you, if I wasn't in a rush, I'd be happy to rip off your testicles and feed them back to you."
Enough was enough. He wasn't going to take these insults. There was no proof he did any of those things. He was too careful.
Walking around to the other side of the bar, he looked down at the 5' 5" stranger.
"Get out."
"You really don't want to touch me."
Smirking, he reaches up to push the stranger.
"Wha-" his words are muffled as his face is mashed into the floor.
"Now you really pissed me off. You're about to figure out why-"
The bartender is flipped over. He tries to kick off his captor, but instead is socked in the face.
"-hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn."
She punches him twice more before realizing the bartender has already fainted.
Standing, she walks behind the counter and grabs the knife used to cut the lemon wedges.
"Hope he's not attached to this knife."
Her face never changes expressions as she quickly and cleanly severs the bartender's scrotum. She could have woken him up and made the cuts slowly, really making him suffer, but she was in a rush.
After stuffing the man's mouth, she grabs a lighter from behind the counter and begins to heat the incision she's made. The man wakes up screaming.
"You're awake. Good." She stops the lighter, "Enjoy hell."
Rinsing her hands in the sink, she wipes down the counter, knife and glasses. No need to leave evidence behind.
Lifting Felicity over her right shoulder, she begins to walk out, the bartender's agonizing screams echoing around her.
Outside, her driver is waiting, car door open.
She gently lays Felicity down on the backseat. She pauses, momentarily struck by how beautiful the blonde looks against the black leather.
"Ma'am?"
Getting into the car, she turns to her driver.
"Get a clean up crew for inside the bar."
"Yes ma'am. Anyone left inside?"
They both knew there was a bartender, he was asking something else entirely.
"Yes, but there shouldn't be Steven."
"Very good. Are we headed home?"
She simply nods. It's been a long day and her mind is already working on the issue which had brought her back to Star City.
Closing the car door gently, Steven reaches into his jacket and pulls out a 9MM, silencer already attached.
Walking inside, he sees the bartender crawling away from the door - towards the wall phone across the room.
Without a second thought, Steven shoots the base of the man's head, instantly killing him. Putting the gun away, he reaches into his coat and quickly types the following:
"Clean up needed at 'Diva Lounge'. Sweep my casing."
Turning around, he walks outside. Ready to take his master and her new pet home.